Sweet Tomorrow
by Reen1
Summary: Currently Dead. See note inside. [AU, Yaoi] Malik is failing more than half his subjects and Isis signs him up for tutoring. What happens when he falls for his tutor? [MalikRyou]
1. Tutoring

**Author's Pointless Note:** Hiya!!! XD How r yall doin'? I'm back wit another little demented ficcy called Sweet Tomorrow ^^. Please note that this story contains content like YAOI, for those who don't like it or don't know what it is, I suggest you leave. And, by the way, I am really sorry if this fic sucks but this idea hit me square on the head and I just had to write it down. Now, off with my rants and on with the show ^__________________^ 

**Disclaimer:** If you think I own Yu-Gi-Oh, you must be crazy. 

Sweet Tomorrow

Chapter 1 Tutoring

Malik Ishtar was lazily sprawled on the plush couch in his living room, his unusual pair of lavender eyes directed restlessly at the flashing screen of the television. He held out his left arm, clicking furiously on the 'Change' button of his remote control. Channels flickered after channels, none doing the least to capture his attention. Periodically, his violet spheres would dart to the plain, black-and-white clock that hung modestly on one wall beside an intricate painting of a glass vase with a bouquet. 

He absentmindedly brushed away a lock of bleached blonde hair that habitably fell across his orbs before firing a brief glimpse at the clock. It read 7:45 PM. _Isis would be home soon,_ he remarked to himself. He shifted his gaze back to the flashing channels. Programs and talk shows appeared and disappeared in a blur as he continued to click endlessly on the button. 

Malik Ishtar was your average, everyday gangster. He attended the tenth grade of Domino High regularly, however reluctant he might be about education. He was a typical hunk: he had shoulder-length blonde hair that was bleached in an exotic manner by the blistering desert sun of Egypt (his country of origin) and a pair of enchanting violet eyes. An additional plus to his already swooning-looks was his firm, sturdy build and muscles that were heavily emphasized by the moon-grey vest and the sleeveless black shirt he attired in. His complexion was a tanned hue, a few shades lighter than coca-brown. 

Unfortunately, his sense of intelligence did not -- could not -- compare to his striking good-looks. Maybe it was laziness or tedium that prevented him from learning, or maybe it was plain stupidity, but Malik was not a very bright student at Domino. Some people had carelessly concluded that Malik was a delinquent (which he could not argue against) and therefore was brainless. But, all in all, Malik did not achieve satisfying grades in school and continued to drop. 

Even his best buddies, Marik and Bakura, received higher, if not that much, marks than he did, which was considerably embarrassing. But Malik didn't care. In his view, school was just a pointless stage in life all living humans were obligated to go through. The three (Malik, Marik, and Bakura) were the living terrors of Domino High. They were all in their senior years and none cared a least bit about their future. 

"What's the point of worrying about the future when we have our present to worry about?" Marik had pointed out one day. The three had considered this and found the remark both logical and sensible. 

Malik shot another glance at the silently ticking clock. The time was 7:55 PM. His older sister Isis would be home soon from her meeting with his teacher, Mr. Tenoh, and he was positive the results would not be good. 

It wasn't the first time that Isis had gone to 'meet and have a little chat' with one of his teachers. As a matter of fact, this was her fifth time. Three times in the past had been because of his mischief, the rest had been because of his plunging grades. He mentally cringed. Isis would be home soon, and there was little doubt that she would be anything but happy. 

She would, Malik had discovered from past experiences, probably angrily stomp into the quaint Victorian house they currently occupied and lecture him on the sheer importance of education. As much as he loved her to bits, Malik could not stand to be in a house with a furious and irritated Isis. 

The vague noise of tires as they screeched to a halt in the front driveway was discreetly heard. Malik bolted up straight. The slamming of the car door was followed by the dull, half-muffled footsteps as they made their way to the front entrance. Malik closed his eyes in dismay. There was no doubt now, it was Isis. There was the jingling of metallic keys as Isis fiddled with her keyring. Malik inhaled deeply and braced himself. 

The front door swung open, admitting a tall, radiant woman and a harsh gust of cold, November air. Isis slammed the door silently behind her before greeting her younger brother warmly. "Hello, Malik." She smiled. 

Malik exhaled only to nearly choke to death on the air he was breathing in. 

Even though Isis was Malik's elder by only six years, making her the eligible age for a bachelor girl at 22, her over-protectiveness and caring nature for Malik might have passed her for his mother instead. She was tall and pretty with long ebony hair and her aquamarine eyes. She had an attractive, slender frame and an alluring coppery-bronze complexion. 

Isis slid off her winter coat and placed it on the coat rack in the hall, still smiling warmly. "I had a talk with your teacher." 

Malik stood up from the couch. "What did he say?" 

"He said you aren't doing very well in school." 

Malik resisted the urge to snort. "And?" 

Isis refused to meet his gaze. "That there are many ways for you to improve." 

"Is that all?" 

Isis shook her head. "He suggested you take tutoring. I agreed and signed you up." 

Malik goggled at his sister in astonishment. "You WHAT?" 

Isis didn't even bat an eyelash. "I signed you up for tutoring. Mr. Tenoh will tell you more about it tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to sort out the accounts for the museum." With that said, she stalked to the kitchen with Malik's lavender orbs glued on her retreating back. 

~*~

"Hey, Ryou! Wait up!" 

Ryou turned his head slightly, causing his silky locks of ivory hair to flit adorably around his alabaster complexion. His chocolate brown eyes smiled once he registered the caller. It was his childhood friend Yuugi Mutou. 

"Hey, Yuugi," he greeted brightly with his daily, trademark smile. 

Yuugi pulled into a halt a foot away from Ryou and submitted into a fit of coughs and gasps, his tri-coloured hair astray and his blonde bangs sticking to his round, child-like face. He looked like he was practicing for the track-and-field tryouts next week. Ryou waited patiently while his friend caught his breath. 

"Mr. Tenoh wants to see you now." Yuugi managed to choke out. 

Ryou's delicate eyebrows knitted in concern. "Do you know what it's for?" 

Yuugi shook his head. "I don't think you're in trouble, though." 

Ryou nodded. "Okay, I'll see you later then." Yuugi nodded before waving good-bye to his friend and heading down the school corridor in the direction of the library.   
  
  
  
Ryou knocked on the door to the history classroom politely. He heard a half-muffled "Come in" and opened the door. 

Mr. Tenoh was a twenty-five year old teacher. He taught a various series of subjects, though his main course was history. He was one of those young, understanding teachers that got along quite well with his students. 

He sat behind his desk, apparently grading some test papers. He looked up in time to see Ryou enter the classroom. He smiled. "Hello, Ryou." 

Ryou smiled back. It was almost impossible for anyone to dislike Mr. Tenoh. "Hi." 

"Ryou, you volunteered to tutor, right?" 

Ryou nodded enthusiastically. "Yea." 

Mr. Tenoh evaded Ryou's gaze. "Well, I have a student that I would like you to tutor." 

"Who?" 

Mr. Tenoh's grave eyes locked onto Ryou's. "Malik Ishtar." 

-_ To Be Continued_ -   
  
  
**Author's Pointless Note:** Okay, I've warned you that it sucks, so feel free to flame me if ya want. This was done while eating cold pizza and drinking soda at 1:00AM. ^^ Anywho, I'll try to update it as soon as possible. In the meantime, if you would just take a nanosecond to send me a review, that would be very much appreciated. And who knows, it might help with my update ^^ Bai Bai!! 


	2. Meet Ryou Bakura

**Author's Pointless Note:** I'm sorry it took so long but I had a lot of homework and well you know, school torture. But anyway, I'm back here with another chap to Sweet Tomorrow ^__________^ By the way, in case you get confused, Bakura is Ryou's older brother, okay. I know he's not but this is a A/U so I can make him anything I want. *devilish grin* I placed a list of the Japanses names and the dubbed names below in case you don't know them, because I'm just gonna do the Japanese ones here. Anyway, you know the drill, right? Read and Review! ^^ Toodles for now! 

**Translated Names:**   
    Bakura = Ryou  
    Yami Bakura = Bakura  
    Yami Malik = Marik 

**Disclaimer:** Geez, Sherlock, quit chasing my ass, will ya? 

Sweet Tomorrow

Chapter 2 Meet Ryou Bakura

Ryou tucked his textbooks and homework under his arm, before closing the door quietly behind him. He darted a quick glimpse at his wristwatch. It was 12:05PM. Good, he would still have time to make it to the cafeteria to eat with his friends. 

He silently sighed as he ambled slowly to the cafeteria. He wondered what it would be like tutoring his crush. 'Guess I'll find out soon enough.' 

**[flashback]**

_"Malik?" Ryou gulped. "A-Are you sure, Mr. Tenoh?" _

Mr. Tenoh looked surprise. "Is he really that -- er, hard to tutor?" 

Ryou hesitated. He couldn't say no. After all he hadn't tutored Malik before. But he didn't want to tutor Malik. It wasn't that he doesn't like Malik. It was because of his major_ crush on Malik that prevented him from saying yes. He was afraid that he was going to do something really stupid in front of the Egyptian. "N-No, I don't think so." _

Mr. Tenoh looked relieved. "Then what's the problem?" 

Ryou hesitated again. "I haven't tutored anyone else before." 

"That's all right. You're at the top of your class. You have nothing to worry about." Mr. Tenoh assured the white-haired boy. 

Ryou didn't look too sure. As much as he would love to spend time with one of his older brother's best friends, he wasn't sure he was up to it. But Ryou was never one to question a teacher's request. He reluctantly nodded. 

Mr. Tenoh noticed the reluctance and hesitation. "You don't have to tutor him if you don't want to. I'll find someone else. It's just that you're at the top of the grade and I received a special request for you to tutor him." 

Someone specifically requested him? Now he couldn't really turn that_ down. "No!" He almost shouted. Mr. Tenoh was baffled. A tiny tinge of pink unfurled on Ryou's cheeks and he replied, this time in a quieter voice. "No, it's all right. I'll tutor him." _

Mr. Tenoh smiled. "I know you can do it. Now, let's go over your schedule..." 

**[end of flashback]**

Ryou was so trapped in his thoughts that he didn't notice where his feet took him. He had anticipated that they would bring him to his destination -- the cafeteria. But they didn't. Instead, he had wandered into land no sensible eighth grader would go -- the tenth grade corridor. 

Even though the tenth graders and the eighth graders were only two years apart, they shared a lot of difference. In Domino, the tenth graders almost had as much power as the oldest students of the school, the twelfth graders. And, of course, they liked to abuse these _powers_ on the youngest students of the school, the eighth graders. 

They did everything they could to make life hard for the younger students. They teased them mercilessly about their clothes or looks. Some pushed them out of the lunch line and ordered them to line up at the back. Some went even as far as bullying them. Of course the teachers never went so far to restrain them. They all saw it as a tradition. A HARMLESS tradition. Boy, were they ever so wrong. 

Ryou gulped. He hadn't realized where he had gone. He better run out of here before a seriously mean tenth grader recognized him and preyed on him. 

No such luck. 

As he whirled on his heels and prepared to run, a harsh, calloused hand shot out and clasped his elbow so tight Ryou winced. 

No doubt about it. He was found. By some mean tenth grader. And not just any tenth grader. It was Don Marco. The biggest, meanest, and ugliest bully that ever existed in Domino history. He could feel it in Don's iron grip. 

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A poor, defenseless grade eight?" 

Ryou closed his eyes and braced himself. Where was Bakura when you need him? He wobbled around to face Don. His knees had suddenly turned to jelly. 

Don Marco was your typical playground bully. He loved to torment kids -- or, in this case, eight graders. He was a pudgy teen, more flesh than muscle, and was all brawn no brain. His dark brown hair stuck up from his pink scalp and his beady-little eyes snapped back at the world. His devious lips formed a contented smile as his pea-sized brain clumsily registered Ryou. 

"If it isn't Ryou Bakura." 

Ryou gulped again audibly though not visibly. Ryou was one of Don's favourites to pick on simply because Ryou was his rival Bakura's little brother. Don and Bakura's history goes _way_ back. 

The bloody fuse all started around grade sixth, Ryou estimated. Don was cheating off Bakura's test paper in mathematics and Bakura warned him to stop. Don, obviously, didn't. To say Bakura was annoyed would be an understatement. Bakura was beyond extremely irritated. And, well, he punch Don square in the stomach. Don flew back unto a desk and banged his head against the smooth Formica tabletop. 

Now, Don had been trying ever since to be able to defeat Bakura, which he failed miserably every time. Therefore resolved to vent out his anger and frustration at Ryou. 

"If he bullies you ever again, come tell me," those were Bakura's words when he discovered Ryou's bruises and cuts. Ryou had faithfully obeyed him. The last time he told his older brother, Bakura had angrily marched off to find Don. Ryou heard he had severely beaten Don up then dragged him to the boy's washroom and flushed his head into the toilet. Ryou had thought it was a little too extreme, but he didn't mutter anything to Bakura. 

Don advanced closer. Ryou wanted to run but Don's death grip still clutched his elbow. His slim legs turned into wiggling ropes and his shoes were stuck onto the hall floor. 

"You know, I really missed our little heart-to-heart moments. You never come here anymore." Don's cruel smirk widened visibly. 

Ryou knew what was happening. He closed his eyes and braced himself as Don lifted his hand. 

The blow never came. 

~*~

Malik staggered down the corridor of the tenth graders tediously. Another day of school. Another day of torture. His lavender spheres roved over the rows and rows of metallic lockers lined up on either side of the hall as he remembered his conversation with Mr. Tenoh earlier that morning. 

**[flashback]**

_"Yes, Mr. Tenoh?" Malik closed the class door with his heel, eyeing the young history teacher thoroughly. _

Mr. Tenoh was sitting behind his large desk, reading a novel and leisurely sipping his Starbucks coffee. He glanced up at Malik behind his thin-rimmed glasses. "Hello, Malik." 

Malik feigned a polite smile if not warm. "You wanted to talk to me?" 

"Uh, yeah. Umm, how shall I but this..." Malik heard him mutter under his breath. "You may already know from your sister Isis that you are taking tutoring, right?" 

Malik nodded, recalling his shock and annoyance at Isis last night. "Yea, Isis informed me." 

Mr. Tenoh's emerald gaze locked onto Malik's lavender orbs. "Well, I haven't had a chance to talk to your tutor and arrange everything for you. But it's up to you and your tutor to arrange a consistent date or time to meet. I will give your tutor everything you need --" 

"Who is_ my tutor?" Malik interrupted, evidently impatient. _

"His name is Ryou Bakura." Mr. Tenoh replied with ease and calm. 

Malik's elegant eyebrows knitted as he strained his mind to remember who Ryou Bakura was from roll call. Nothing. But the name 'Bakura' caught his attention. 

Mr. Tenoh detected this and answered, "He's your friend Bakura's little brother." 

Malik was taken aback. Since when does Bakura have a little brother? Actually, come to think of it, Bakura did mention before about having a younger sibling. Malik just assumed a ten-year old, not someone old enough to be able to tutor_ him. _

Mr. Tenoh ignored Malik's shock and resumed speaking. "I have already talked to the other teachers about this so if you need the time, I'll sure you and your teachers will be able to work something out of your school schedule." 

Malik turned to Mr. Tenoh, amazed. Get out of school? All right!

"Of course, they'll need to check Ryou's schedule as well." 

Damn.

"That is all, Malik. You may go to lunch now." 

**[end of flashback]**

Malik sighed. Tutoring. What did he do to deserve this? He continued to amble down the tenth grade corridor. 

That was when he heard Don Marco's voice. He _loathed_ Don Marco. It wasn't just because of Bakura's rivalry, it was a lot of things. Don Marco loved to threaten people to show off. And Malik hated people who did that. 

"You know, I really missed our little heart-to-heart moments. You never come here anymore." 

By the sounds of it, it looked like a poor eighth grader was being creamed again. Malik started to jog towards Don Marco and his victim. It wasn't difficult. Don's portly figure stood out like a sore thumb in the empty hall. 

Malik skidded to a halt a meter away, his fists clenched at his sides. "Don't you have someplace you should be, Marco? Like detention?" 

Don turned around. "No, I don't, Ishtar. Just leave me alone." He started to turn when Malik grasped his arm tightly. 

"You better go now. Otherwise Mrs. Dorico will find out about your little cheating on the socials test this morning." 

Don gasped. "How did you --" 

"Just go!" 

Don obeyed instantly. Malik watched as he walked away, his shoulders bent and his eyes on the floor, like a puppy dog with its tail between its legs. He smirked. If only Bakura could've been here to see it. 

He turned to face the eighth grader. His eyes widened. 

~*~

Ryou was frozen with shock. He pried his eyes open and found Malik standing in front of him. _So it was Malik._ A tinge of pink dusted Ryou's pale cheeks. 

Malik stared at the slender figure in front of him, amazed at the resemblance of an angel. The pretty boy had silk-like ivory locks that brushed past his shoulders and chocolate eyes filled with passion and gentleness. He looked exactly like a clone of Bakura; only where Bakura's features were sharp and unmistakable, his were molded to softness. 

Malik extended a hand towards the boy. "Are you all right?" 

Ryou nodded. "Yes, thank you." 

"You are..." 

"Ryou Bakura." 

Malik nearly choked on the air he was inhaling. _So this is my tutor?_

Call it a hunch, but when Mr. Tenoh had said 'tutor' Malik had mentally pictured a boy dressed in a checked shirt with the ends tucked into his pants; thick-rimmed glasses reinforced with Scotch tape hanging crookedly on the tip of his nose; a mouth full of braces etc. 

But he certainly did not picture a slender figure with an alabaster complexion; long, snowy hair brushing against his shoulders; and soft gentle eyes made of chocolate. He had pictured anything but _that_. 

"So you're my tutor?" 

Ryou nodded. He didn't trust his voice. His eyes were riveted on the floor, his cheeks burning a fierce red now. 

"Would you like to walk with me?" 

-_ To Be Continued_ -   
  
  
**Author's Pointless Note:** I am so, so, so SORRY for ending it there but I have to go to a basketball games real soon. I know I've used this excuse before but it's true. Anyway, while you're at it, why not take a second and send me some feedback? Maybe it'll help with my update **Hint Hint** ^______________________________^ 


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